Prophecy of Fate
by teacupsNmints
Summary: Just as Eric is beginning to recover from losing Godric, he is faced with constant reminders of his maker. Could it be or is it his imagination? With Sookie's help, can Eric solve the mystery and find peace? Takes place at the end of season 2. Eric/Sookie
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own True Blood or Eric Northman. I just wish I did!

**Prophecy of Fate**

_All it takes is one event, no matter how slight or grand, to alter everything. One split second is enough to change your entire life. It can turn day to night, life to death, boys to men. _

_Many moons ago, I was a young mortal man; naïve and innocent. My older brother Lars had spent five years as a Viking warrior, earning the reputation of being dangerous and volatile… feared yet respected. Like our father and grandfather before him, he led his men, young and old alike, into battle; which was always on foreign soil. My people preferred to fight, scavenge, and pillage where it would affect others personally, politically, and financially; leaving our land to remain unscathed. With the ever growing population, it was necessary to forage out in an attempt to expand our villages. I followed in my brother's footsteps at the tender age of fifteen, watching and learning from the shadow in which I'd always remain for the entirety of my human life. _

_All triumph must come to an end; each victor eventually taking his final breath._

_It was after a copious invasion off the coast of Lisbon. We'd attacked, plundered and burned their villages; killing their men, claiming their women and stealing their children. It was a ruthless fight, one of which I was not proud. I focused my energy, as did my brother, on the killing; leaving the claiming and stealing for the men beneath us. But it was the only way then: be the strongest or lose everything. _

_Occasionally, even the strongest would lose. And when they lost…they lost it all._

_It had been seven months, but the outraged clan would take revenge. They attacked in the dead of night; utilizing the darkness as their tool. Lars was beaten to death in his bed where he'd been sleeping alongside his wife, Aude; who was spared to be forever haunted by the memory of his murder. _

_In the blink of an eye, my brother was gone; leaving his widow with child. She would be mine; married within one week of his death. The next in line of four brothers, I was the eldest and unmarried. It was my place, my responsibility to carry out. It was the way of my people. I would never know young love; true love. I would never know the tender kiss of a virgin. I would never be the first to touch or to taste any woman. My destiny was set, and it was my obligation to carry out. I would make the best of things. That was all we knew then. By the time Aude delivered the child, stillborn, I had become adjusted in my new life and chose to remain by her side. It took months for her to recover. A superstitious woman, she convinced herself demons had been sent by the Gods to steal her child in payment of her sins. She deemed it penance for allowing herself to covet the brother of her deceased husband; whom she'd sworn before God to love forever. In Aude's mind it was meant for me to marry her only as a means to fulfill obligation, insure her safety and the safety of my brother's unborn child, and to procreate. _

_It was a sin for her to actually have enjoyed our lovemaking. _

_Many women would now attest it to have been a sin if she had not._

_In actuality, it was because of Aude, as my wife, that I learned the way of a woman's gentle curves. I'd found my way to her a virgin, ignorant and unskilled with women. My mentor, she had a tender hand and an understanding nature. The soft waves of her strawberry hair set in contrast against her fair skin. Tall and full, her voluptuous body was the perfect welcome after a day of foraging. Many a night I'd spent nestled within her embrace, my cheek to her breast, losing myself in the sparkling blue warmth of her eyes. I grew to care for her deeply, regardless of the way we had come to be. She accepted me completely, body and soul; eventually bearing me six children. Of two boys and four girls, I learned only three would survive to reach adulthood. I would not see any of my off spring age beyond childhood. _

_I was called away to war. Foreigners threatened the safety of our village, our women, and our children. The able-bodied men of our clan would scatter the outskirts of our land, defending its honor to the end. Some of us took to the sea, as a means to stop the threat before it ever reached our shores. Our battles quickly moved to foreign shores. In order to accumulate more wealth, we had to strike the first blow._

_It was during my fourth month away that I saw Godric, my maker, for the very first time. We were off the coast of Prussia, defending a small island known for rare spices; an invaluable commodity during those times. Everything was foreign to us there, the climate, the vegetation, the inhabitants. Completely disoriented, it had been a bloody battle. I'd lost over a third of my men to combat. The clanking of silver, the muffled sound of metal meeting flesh, the moan and shutter of death …are sounds that remain with me to this day. _

_They swirled in my mind that night, creating a rage of guilt. I had just dragged two of my men over what had to have been 400 yards at least just to find one already dead, and one bleeding so profusely it was futile. As all the life around me seemed to leave the bodies, their souls preparing the journey to the Gods, I heard a rustling in the trees. My sword drawn above my head, my legs bent and ready to lunge, I was attacked quickly and without any opportunity to defend. I found myself flat on my back, a weaponless child perched atop my chest. He appeared human, beautiful; but his flesh was ice cold and his teeth were like that of a rabid animal. I struggled to free myself, reaching for my sword. He was too fast, almost predicting my every move. I had never known another man I could not defeat, especially one unarmed. He spoke in my dialect, although he looked nothing like me or my kind. He had seen me at war, impressed by my skills. He told me I should not fight him. I should know I would die there on that island, my army all but gone. He explained that he could not let my passion, determination and skills as a warrior rot into the ground surrounded by a hundred other unworthy men. He could not save my soul, but he could save my life…if that's what you'd wish to call it. _

_Before I could answer, I felt his bite; his teeth easily piercing my skin. I remember the confusion I felt as he fed, draining me almost completely. It was…terrifying …yet…incredibly poignant. It was, as if at that moment, I knew Godric was claiming me as his own. My master, my maker, my reason for being. He bestowed upon me the greatest of gifts…eternal life._

_I never went back for Aude and the children, trusting my maker's judgment. He assured me it would not be best to subject my family to what I'd become as they could never understand the change and I was unable to harness my newborn abilities and needs. Years later, while passing through a neighboring village, I learned of their wellbeing. Aude never remarried, but was cared for by the clan in honor of myself and my brother, Lars; as we had sacrificed our lives for them. My children each fulfilled their destinies; some too short, the others experiencing full lives. I missed it all. That probably should have made me sad. I probably should have felt pain, remorse. I should have cried. If I were still human, I am sure I would have. Instead, I felt nothing._

_For it was Godric who had given me immortality and it was with Him I was reborn._

_I remember, in the visions of my earliest memories, staring in fascination at the gracefulness of his movements. Godric had become a vampire himself tens of decades before becoming my maker. We grew together throughout the ages and I witnessed how he had evolved from a savage animalistic being to a gentleman of charisma and charm. We were quite the alluring pair during our time together; combing the streets of city after city, driven only by bloodlust, sex, wealth and power. _

_Quite the entrepreneurs, Godric and I perfected the art of wine making. Having learnt myself from the greatest drunkards of the Viking Age, I could ferment anything from fruit to fish. Godric fashioned the barrels in which the wine was stored; knowing just which berry would be complimented by birch and which needed oak. We'd move from town to town, carrying our enterprise with us; wooing men with the need for booze and women with the need for fun. Ah, it was a time for Godric and me. We feasted well, suckling on the fruits of our labor. We complimented one another so perfectly; he holding my most adoring respect and affection, I knowing with him I'd always be cared for. _

_Like all young fledglings, there came a time for me to move on. Eventually, I too became a maker, accompanying myself with Pam somewhere around the turn of the century. But my connection to Godric never weakened. I could always feel him, even when we were worlds apart. His joy caused my heart to dance; his pain brought me to my knees. _

_It had been at least a century since I'd last seen him when I'd learned of his imprisonment in nearby Shreveport. I local vigilante organization using religion as a shroud was holding Godric with the intent of using him as an example…a martyr. I became furious and it took every bit of will I could muster to remain rational. I tried to behave as Godric would. I pursued the assistance of Sookie Stackhouse, a human telepath with whom I share a blood bond and together we initiated his release. I was anxious to see his comforting eyes, his flawless face. He appeared as he always had: serene, wise and beautiful. However, this time he wore a new emotion that took me time to recognize: sadness. Godric, my Maker, had lost his will to live. He had witnessed and inflicted so much devastation and sorrow during his long existence on earth that he was too distraught to face another day. His decision was made. I could not sway his will._

_And, in a flash…one split second…the blink of an eye, my entire reason for being…was GONE._

**More to come. I'll be jumping to the end of Season 2. If you like what you see---let me know.**

**Reviewers get to comfort Eric!!!**


	2. Ch1 From the Darkness There is Light

_**I do not own True Bood or Eric Northman. If I did---it'd be porn.**_

CH. 1 From the Darkness There is Light

It had been six months since I'd climbed down from that rooftop; the vision of Godric's beautiful form silhouetted against the high rise buildings and cement towers reaching upward toward the dawn sky. The warmth of the oncoming morning sun evident by the steam rising from my skin, I had no choice but to leave. Although Sookie Stackhouse promised to remain with him, it didn't change the fact that I abandoned the one I'd been forever obligated; the one I'd honored and cherished…and loved like no other. And now…he was gone, for Godric had chosen to sacrifice himself to the sun.

I'd never known despair before that morn; the absolute anguish, sorrow and torment that follows loss; the wholeness of empty that consumes one's insides. I cried for the first time in my many years of remembering. For Godric, the red tears of the undead streamed down my cheeks.

During the first month following Godric's demise, I remained in my office at the rear of Fangtasia, in solitude. The windowless space offered safety from the sun and seclusion during the night. No one dared enter without permission, nor did they even try. I craved nothing; not companionship, not sleep, not nourishment. My body weakened together with my will to exist. As the weeks passed, I apparently began to deteriorate. It wasn't until I saw the fear in Sookie's eyes the night she forced her way into my office that I realized exactly how far I'd gone.

Sookie had ignored Pam's warnings, pushing past her toward my solitude. She alone braved my company. I was volatile, unpredictable; even more so than usual. Not even Pam dared to face me. But Sookie offered solace when I craved darkness; a tender touch when I spat obscenities. She was unrelenting, and her compassion slowly and diligently smoothed away at the rough edges of my interior …enough for me to allow her in.

Her courage and persistence impressed me. Her soft curves and ample bosom inspired me. Sookie quickly became my will to exist; as I didn't exactly_ live_. She became my strength during a time of weakness, calm during my inner storm. She welcomed my tears with a warm embrace, and I allowed them to flow freely in her presence. For with her I was safe…home. And, due to our blood bond, I knew her concern was genuine in return.

I had no explanation or experience to draw upon for what I felt toward Sookie. It was unlike anything I'd ever known. I didn't love her---I couldn't. I'd proven repeatedly throughout the decades that I was incapable of that particular emotion….simply satiating one need after the next with a history of nameless, faceless women. But for her I most definitely felt an endearment; one I did not understand, but could not imagine living without. Unlike the hundreds of years worth of women I'd _known_, I could not satiate the hunger she stirred.

I suspected she became aware of my need for her the night she refused to come to my office at the end of her shift at Merlotte's. Instead she insisted upon meeting me in the largest, most popular room of Fangtasia. She was forcing me out…back into the world. Her efforts were well-intentioned, but it infuriated me. I was unaccustomed to being controlled by a human, and I was bewildered by the power she had over me.

I stood at the door to my office, my fingers wrapped tightly around the ornate crystal knob. If blood still coursed my veins, I was certain my knuckles would have been white with strain. If my existence still required breathing, mine would have been ragged. I could almost feel a veil of imaginary perspiration on my forehead.

Finally, in one swift movement, the door flung open at my mercy and I stepped out. The sound of my boots on the tiled floor echoed through my ears, drowning out the gasps of the tourists and the steady beat of "After Midnight" on the sound system. I took in my surroundings as my world became muted, allowing my existing senses to become hypersensitive; colors and scents overpowering me. Swirls of blacks and reds dominated the room. Being the colors most humans associated with vampires, humans most often chose to wear them while mingling with Louisiana's undead. I closed my eyes, allowing my sense of smell to take over, in hopes of locating the aroma of fresh linen and magnolia blossoms I was looking for. Instead, I found almond, bay leaves and myrrh. It was a combination with which I was quite familiar, but one I never again expected to encounter. It was an ancient combination, a pleasant aroma most appreciated for its soothing qualities. But it was not something to be appreciated by the common human or marketed in their industries.

Mystified, I opened my eyes, looking for what I knew I could not possibly find, but somehow wishing I were wrong. In fact, I was hoping…for a miracle. But miracles were saved for the good… the kind…the human. Not for the soulless undead. In the sea of red and black, a flash of pale blue caught my attention. I moved toward the color, the sought after aroma growing stronger with every step. Curiosity, anxiety and intrigue led me through the crowd, my frustration growing as the mass of humans continually blocked my view. I found myself hastily shoving humans out of my way as I carelessly pushed my way through the crowd. I closed my eyes and focused on the scent, following it blindly as it began to fade and finally disappeared altogether.

I stood in the middle the dance floor, my hands on my hips, at a total loss…until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Impulsively, I grabbed the wrist, to find Sookie staring at me, wide-eyed and smiling. "I see you made it out of that room" she giggled. "I must say I didn't expect to see you on the dance floor."

I quickly released her wrist, gently caressing the area I'd assaulted as I placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Her hand in mine, I led her away from the dance floor to a secluded table reserved only for me. I was lost in thought, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I knew it was impossible, but I also could not mistake that scent….the scent of _him_.

Sookie was watching me, still smiling, when my curiosity got the better of me. "That night on the rooftop, you saw him…go?"

"Godric?" She asked pleasantly.

"Yes! Godric!"

She jumped at my tone. "Yes. I told you…."

"Describe what you saw."

"Eric, you really don't want…"

"Don't tell me what I want. Do what I say!" I felt my fangs drag against my bottom lip. I did not wish to frighten her, but I needed to know… every detail.

Her lips trembled as she accounted every second of Godric's demise. She watched him enflame and turn to dust. Based on her description, there was no mistaking what she saw. But it sure as hell did not help to explain how Godric's scent made its way into my bar.

She sat quietly across from me for quite some time before finally speaking.

"Eric, are you okay? You're scaring me. You look like you've seen a ghost."

I shook my head, my eyes focused on the table.

"No. Not seen."

I made a point to look directly in her eyes, eager for her reaction.

"Sensed."

_**If you like this story so far---if it intrigues you at least a little---PLEASE leave me a review. **_

_**Each chapter I will choose one reviewer to star with Eric in their own personal drabble. **_

_**Thanks!! **_

_**tNm**_


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